


let me make a thing of cream and stars

by marcaskane (noblydonedonnanoble)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s04e05 Divide and Conquer, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/marcaskane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have made things easier, knowing that he felt the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me make a thing of cream and stars

**Author's Note:**

> After a rewatch of "Divide and Conquer" I felt the need to write out some of my feelings about this ship. Be gentle with me, as this is my first foray into Stargate fic.

                It should have made things easier, knowing for certain that he felt the same way. As it was, it only made things worse.

                Up to that point, Sam had made a habit of lying to herself. _There’s nothing special about how he looks at you_ , she told herself. _Look at how quickly he embraced a life with someone else_ , she told herself. _He would risk death to save Teal’c or Daniel too_ , she told herself.

                She knew none of it was as black and white as she made it out to be but she had become quite skilled at lying and almost believing it, most of the time. When he glanced at her for a few moments too long, when they accidentally touched and it felt irrationally tender, she would file the memories away in a box and she didn’t pull them out again.

                The night after they got back from PX9-757 she was up until 4am reliving the moment when that forcefield separated the two of them and she thought he was going to say—

                She stuffed that memory into the box, too, which by that point was overflowing with snapshots of moments that made her heart ache.

                Sam had spent so long convincing herself to believe in a lie, so long that when she ran into that room (just in time, thank God, who knows what that machine could have done to Jack if she hadn’t intervened) and hinted at what she thought the problem might be, she was almost prepared for him to insist that he had no clue what she was talking about.

                But he didn’t. _Oh! Oh, that_ , he said.

                Casual, nonchalant. Like it was obvious. Like he took it for granted that even though it was unspoken, that didn’t mean it was unknown.

                The rush of relief that she felt in that moment nearly barreled her over with its intensity. It lasted through their confessions. (The way she nearly teared up at his admission that he’d rather die than lose her… the way she had to bite her lip at his confession that he cared about her… _a lot more than he was supposed to_.)

                It began to fade as soon as he approached her to help her out of the chair, because she saw his face and she knew that there would be no more to it. She knew before, of course. She knew right away, of course, she was bracing herself for it as she was racing to that room to save him. But that didn't make it easier. That didn't make it hurt any less.

                She promised him that they didn't have to make anything of it and she promised him that she was okay with that.

                She could tell herself that they didn't have to make anything of it but she didn’t bother to lie to herself about whether it was okay. Because it wasn’t. Of course she got why they needed to do it but that didn’t mean that it was okay.

That night, Sam lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She unpacked the box and relived every stolen moment between them, holding each one close to her heart while trying her best to remind herself of all of the reasons to keep things just the way they were.


End file.
